Let's Make a Deal
by go.suck.on.a.lemon
Summary: How Umbridge got Filch onto her side in OOTP. Not very graphic at all, slightly humorous, I think.


Ok, I had this idea at camp, but decided to write the other piece I have on this site instead. Then the idea just wouldn't leave me alone (darn it!) so I had to write it to get it out of my head. Although, now that I think about it I will never get this story out of my head, as it has probably scarred me for life. Don't let that deter you though, it's still a pretty good piece, at least I think so. Tell me what you think, review! Then go read my other story and review it too! You know you wanna. Oh, and I own nothing, just a couple stuffies and a notebook, so don't sue me for borrowing these characters, as I don't own them either. I wouldn't want to own them either, (no offense of J.K.Rowling) because they are possibly the most repugnant characters in the entire series. I really have to wonder why I wrote about them, of all people. Maybe I've finally flipped, ah well, enjoy anyways. :D

Let's Make a Deal

Delores Umbridge smiled to herself as she put her kettle on. She was confident in her new position at Hogwarts, and sure that she would be granted greater authority as the year wore on. Her smile sagged to a look of contemplation as her thoughts moved on. What she really needed was an ally. Someone who could inform her about troublemaking students, and more importantly Potter and Dumbledore, but who wouldn't be seen as suspicious even if they were caught sneaking around.

The kettle boiled and she lifted it off the small stove in the corner of her office. Something in the shriek of the kettle had set off a chain reaction in her mind. She almost poured the hot water all over her desk; she was so deep in thought. Just what was it that noise had so reminded her of? Then suddenly it dawned o her, and a slow, sickening smile spread across her toad-like face.

Somehow her mind had connected her steaming kettle with the rasping, wheezing breath of Argus Filch. In doing so it had also solved her earlier predicament. Filch had absolutely everything she required in an informant. Umbridge's smile widened as she considered the possibilities. Filch already did so much ferreting around after students that a bit extra would hardly be noticed at all. Even better; and at this thought her smile quite literally stretched from ear to ear, putting wide-mouthed tree frogs to shame; she had a good idea of exactly how to turn him to her side.

Umbridge hurriedly checked her large, pink wall clock. It was just after nine in the evening, precisely the right time to call Filch in for a little chat over tea.

After stepping out into the hallway and charging the first student unfortunate enough to cross her path with the task of locating Filch and sending him to her office, she set about preparing for his arrival. She laid out another cup and saucer beside her own, placing a plate of sugar cookies in the centre of her desk, and adjusted her large, pink hair ribbon with the aid of her large, pink-framed mirror. As a final insurance measure she added a few drops of Essence of Compliance to the tea. Her reasoning was that if any sort of agreement was to be reached then both parties had to be ready to go along with the others suggestions.

Umbridge had only just put the small potion bottle back on it's shelf when filch appeared at her door.

"Ah, Argus, do come in," Umbridge smiled widely.

Filch was more than a bit uncomfortable amid all the doilies and cat plates. His eyes kept shifting from side to side, searching for an exit even as he shuffled further into the office. "Professor Umbridge-," he began.

"Now now Argus," she interrupted, sitting down behind her desk, "We'll have none of that, we're both staff members. You may call me Delores. Now please, shut the door and have a seat." Umbridge smiled again in a way that was obviously meant to seem inviting, but which came out rather more like a grimace of pain.

Filch slowly closed the door, regretting sealing off his only exit. He then took a seat in the far-too-squishy armchair across the desk from Umbridge.

"Do have some tea Argus," she cooed, pouring some into his cup. She then proceeded to add liberal amounts of both cream and sugar, without asking whether he wanted any. She handed over the cup and pushed the plate of cookies closer to him. "Oh have some cookies too, I buy these in Diagon Alley and I am very fond of them."

Filch took a cookie from the tray and sipped his tea. He had been intending to complain that he never took sugar in his tea, but after the first sip he decided to let it slide. It was far sweeter than he was used to, but, he reasoned, she had invited him in for a "chat" and it would be better if they didn't start off on a sour note. (Please pardon the terrible pun.)

"Prof-Delores," Filch corrected himself, "what did you want to see me about?"

Umbridge smiled once more. The Essence of Compliance was working, she had overloaded his tea with sugar to test its effectiveness, and as he hadn't yet complained it seemed reasonably safe to continue. She took a sip from her own cup before she spoke.

"Now Argus, you know that I'm quite new to this 'Professor' thing, an it had been quite a while since I attended Hogwarts myself." She added the last part in a conspiratorial whisper, then waited as if wanting Filch to say, "It can't have been that long, you're still very young! You don't look a day over twenty five!" When he stayed silent she continued on, the hint of a scowl playing in the deep creases of her forehead. "Well, needless to say, I no longer have my fingers on the pulse of the school, and so much of the goings-on seem to escape me."

Filch leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. Was she going in the direction he thought she was?

" What I really need, Argus, is someone to help me keep in touch with the ins and outs of castle life. A friend, a confidant." Filch frowned, impatient to know what would be in this union-of-sorts for him. Umbridge sensed this and quickly continued, "Of course it wouldn't be a completely one sided arrangement. I could help you out too, whenever possible. Perhaps later in the year I may be able to arrange for some more leeway where disciplining students is concerned."

Filch was stunned, and it showed on his face. Umbridge grinned, knowing she had him with the promise of greater authority.

Filch was in a state of complete bliss, or so he believed. After all these years he would finally be granted the power to discipline students properly. He would have sworn that in that moment he could hear the angel choirs singing. After a minute or so he came around enough to realize that Umbridge was looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reply.

"Your offer is incredibly generous and I think I'll accept," Filch managed, failing completely to his glee out of his voice. Umbridge only smiled in response and Filch found himself continuing on; "This reminds me of a novel I read a while ago, about two people who go into business together and then… oh wait, no. This is actually nothing like that. in that book they went on to become lovers and…" Filch trailed off suddenly realizing how incredibly stupid he must sound.

At the same moment Umbridge amazed them both by saying, "I wouldn't be opposed to that."

"To what?" queried Filch, thoroughly perplexed now.

"Lovers. That is us. Becoming. If you follow me." Umbridge blushed, from shock as much as shyness. In fact she was astounded by what they were suddenly taking about, this was not the meeting she had planned at all.

Filch was similarly dumfounded, but thought it only polite to make some sort of reply. "Ah, well yes. I… that is we… err, that would be…nice," he finished weakly.

They stared at one another from across the desk; each thinking themselves and the other crazy by turns, and wondering how on earth this meeting had gotten so far out of control.

Then their eyes locked and all thoughts of backing out vanished, replaced only by longing and the thought that pushed them both over the edge: just how very long it had been since their last time.

They rose at the same time and circled the desk, to meet at the end. As one they reached for each other and-

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At this point the author stopped writing in disgust at her own mind. She even appears to be referring to herself in the third person in a desperate attempt to distance herself from this story. For those of you who would have liked to read the, erm, rather violent lovemaking, the author apologizes and offers instead these words as prompters for your imaginations: heaving, gelatinous, elongated, man-panties, and pink-lemonade bodyshots. Thank you, and now: back to the story.

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Neither Umbridge nor Filch said a word as they located their clothing among the mess of crushed pastries, strewn parchment, and overturned teacups afterwards. The Essence of Compliance had worn off and each was seriously questioning their own sanity.

As Filch prepared to leave Umbridge finally broke the silence. "That was uhmmm…"

"Yes," Filch replied, "it was…"

They stared at each other hopelessly. "Good?" Umbridge offered.

"Good," Filch agreed.

They stared for a while longer before Umbridge simply asked, "Next week?"

Filch nodded, the ghost of a smile drifting across his face. "Next week," he replied, then turned and left the office.

Umbridge closed the door after him. She supposed she had gotten her aim; they had an understanding, just not the kind she had expected. She wasn't sure how to feel about it, but she imagined she would soon decide between ecstatic and aghast.

She gazed for a while at the wreckage of her office before making a tutting sound and beginning to tidy up. "Bloody house elves, never around when you need one, totally unreliable," Umbridge trailed off into a comfortable sort of quiet, a smile once more on her lips.

Fin.

Ok, so tell me if you liked it or not, really please do. Now that I've got the whole thing typed out I don't think I like it that much, but I want to know what you think. Please tell me, flames are fine, I welcome any reviews at all. :P


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